When you're Dreaming with a Broken Heart
by Stupidmuse hatesme
Summary: Ten years after Voldemort is destryed and Harry's lost Ginny. Harry's broken Memories start to resurface and a face from the past triggers it all. What will the wizarding world think of Harry's new proffesion? Canon except Snape never died.
1. Chapter 1

_All right, this isn't my first Harry Potter story, but it is my first that I'm putting online! I've had this account for a while, almost as long as the one that I used to actually write on. But I rethought my decision and decided to take a two year hiatus and study others to write better. I'm very happy with the result, so here's my story! I give all credit for the name of the story to whoever sang that song... I'd be appreciative if someone told me who, cause I don't know! And if anyone's looking for a beta job, I'm not desperate, but I prolly need it, you know?_

_Diclaimer: I do not Own Harry Potter in any way fashion or form._

_Chapter One- _When You're Dreaming with a Broken Heart, The Waking up is the Hardest Part.

I need to… Get up!

I wrench myself from sleep and roll off the bed onto the floor, landing on my knees. The room is suffocating me with the strong, ever permeable, smell of gardenias.

Red hair drifts across my face and caresses my skin, softly bathing me in a strong aroma of my lover.

I'm hyperventilating now. She's gone. I'm on my knees, arm around my aching chest as I fold into myself, clutching my knife like a lifeline as I dig it into the carpet.

When did I pull that out?

The scent of gardenias dissipates but my vision doesn't clear and I realize, a little belatedly, as I grope blindly for my vibrating phone, that I'm not wearing glasses or contacts.

"'lo?" I answer groggily, still shaking off my disturbing memory.

"Gi'up, mate!" A familiar voice demands.

"Eh?"

"We've found our mark!"

"Meet you at the corner."

CLICK

Camouflage is a tricky business normally, but when you have startling green eyes, pale milky skin, and you (at least that's what you've been told) smell like kumquat, it's not easy. But my disguise is a second skin. Over my tight boxers I slip on my tight but infinitely flexible leather pants and strap on several of my leather knife holsters in easily accessible places on my thighs and calves. I wriggle into my tight black sleeveless body shirt, that's made of spandex (perfect for slipping out of messes ), and wrap my hands and arms carefully in black wraps, methodically wrapping all the way up to his elbows. I lace up my black leather shoes with silent rubber soles, discreetly tucking a knife (or two) in there as well.

I duck into the small mirror I allow myself propped on my vanity (I broke the large one that was previously there by putting my fist through it some time ago) and slip in my pure black contacts. While there I tie on my long black sweatband, under my bangs, that flows behind me when I run. I uncap my smudge pot and carefully cover all of my bare skin in black… stuff before wiping my hands on a rag on my vanity that I have just for that purpose. I slip on my gloves, add a few more knives for good measure, and slip out of my window. Silently, I creep onto the fire escape.

I swing over the railing gracefully and wave my hand as I fall, muttering "Wingardium Leviosa". This is one of the few incantations that I actually remember. My decent slows and I softly hit the ground, lightly, but quickly, treading to the corner where my friend awaits.

"Blimey mate! 3 minutes this time."

I flash my pearly whites to my long time friend.

"Thanks Ron." I quietly answer. "Who's our strike?"

"That pimp that's bin annoying our "Lord". and you know better than to call me that! It's Rory!" He smacks me on the back of the head and hands my the two way earbud that keeps us connected with Hermione. I answer distractedly with an apology as I listen to the plan from Hermione.

"Jane's worked it all out, Viper. All we have to do is…."

I only need one person telling me, people.

Did I mention my snake bite piercing? Or the black stud through my left eyebrow? How about my gauged ears? No, the real kicker is my name. Hermione just fell back on her middle name, Jane. Ron also had a strange fondness for the name Rory. Even Ginny could fall back on the name Jennifer.

I shiver in remembrance of waking only a few minutes ago.

With brown hair dye and brown contacts, Ron (AKA Rory) is the most nondescript man I've ever seen. In comparison, Jane is extraordinarily striking with blond hair and blue eyes. But the viper is never seen. I never go out without a disguise. Known by reputation only, I've never dealt with any of our "Benefactors". Even "Jennifer" had brunette hair to match her brother and her new identity.

My Kill Mark is my only saving grace. A couple flicks of the wrist and my mark is etched into my kill for anyone to see. Of course, it's a spitting viper.

My friends all use their imposing presence to part crowds and cow potential bosses.

I scare people by skulking in the shadows and never having a real face.

Rory Finishes etching out the plan, with Jane making it clearer in the background. I nod in assent. It's a good idea. The man's a coward, the pimp I mean, so scaring him shouldn't be hard.

Hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpssh

"Go Harry! Jane'll pick me up. Just run away as fast as you can you remember where it's at?"

I take the bag from his bloody hands and nod.

"Good, go!"

I don't wait another second and take off, hoping Jane arrives in time to take him out of the hole before back up shows up. I couldn't. 1. He was wounded 2. She has the car 3. We have a deadline with our boss that I have to make.

Hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpssh

I'm peering up from the shadows in the garden at the imposingly ornate house of our boss. It looks familiar, but how should I know? I'm 27 and frankly, I barely remember anything before my first kill. Who was it again? Voldie-man? I shake my head. Now's for business.

From what I understand, Rory and Jane use the front door and go straight towards the "Hall", as they call it.

Now, that's just not my style.

Hmmm…. I stalk closer to the grand structure and then mentally bring up the blue prints again. "That'll do." I whisper, striving quietly up an arbor and through the guard rail onto a balcony. I expertly flick out my knife and the simple door opens with a quiet click, swinging inwards. The curtains are already drawn aside and all eyes are on me as I step through the door, thankfully, not cringing at the light seeping into all corners of the room almost magically.

No, wait. This house has power, so it IS magical. I keep the surprise off of my face as I wipe the dark substance (Smudge, remember?) off, my face at least, and stride confidently forward.

From the head or a magnificent table, an elegant man with platinum locks calls out. "Who are you? I was expecting the beautiful Jane, or even Rory. But not," He sneers and all his fellows, but one, laugh along with him. "A scrawny little runt such as you."

A Striking man with long black hair, a strong presence, and fiery black eyes catches my attention.

Oh Merlin, he's gorgeous.

I turn my attention back towards the blond and stalk forward, dropping my strike's bag on the table in front of him as he idly twirls a glass of red wine in his fingers.

Foreboding much?

"Unfortunately," I drawl quietly, catching everyone's attention. "I am a last resort considering that you wanted that... whatever it is." I wave my hand dismissively at the table and the bag. "So badly that my partner risked his life and is the most assuredly out of commission for the time being." I stare long and hard into his cold silver eyes. "I assure you that I will not soil you with my presence again."

I flourish a bow, and twitters of "the viper" erupt along the table. The blonde, who is most definatly in charge, eyes me with glittering eyes, and the dark beauty eres me impassicely.

The blonde grabs my wrist and yanks me close, tracing my jaw with a snake headed cane. My eyes flicker downwards at it and I"m deluged with memories stemming from this simple item.

"Do I know you?" He murmurs dangerously.

I whip my knife out like lightening and press it to his throat.

"Mr. Malfoy." I grind out. "I suggest that you remoce your paws from my person while you still possess them."

"If this is an attempt at murder..." He spits.

I assure you it is not." I break away from him but am still standing close enough to feel his breath on my face, I never did grow taller than 5'2".

"I do not go by that name any longer."

"I do not know what you do go by, whatever my friends call you, you still live in Malfoy Manor."

Surprise flickers in his eyes as I imagine it does in mine also.

/"Mr. Potter, it would be best if you stayed out of my way from now on."/

"This house is magical no longer."

"It is." I spit venomously. "I can feel it humming around me." I spread my arms out wide. "It still protects it's own. I couldn't kill you if I wanted to."

"You, Mr. Potter, are the viper?"

Now I'm scared. The energy is sucked out of me and I deflate. The only thing keeping me steady is the house. Someone the house likes wishes me well, and she (the hosue) will do whatever it takes to keep her friend happy.

This is why I am never our team's representative.

"I do not remember being who you speak of." I state slowly as I tread backwards. "Therefore he exists no longer."

"Harry." A apined voice whispers. I lock eyes with expression filled onyx ones and I panic, fleeing off the balcony and disappearing with a crack midair.

"Did anyone see him sporting a wand?" Snape asks quietly.

hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpssshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss

I reappear in the middle of my apartment and I immediately begin casting wards around my home, locking door and windows, setting alarms and see me not charms. I exhaust myself protecting myself against all manners of things and finally curl up with a comforterin front of my heater to ward against the chill seeping into me from within.

/"Look at your son's Harry. They're such handsome boys."/

Jenny's laughter fades and I'm aware of tears on my face and soft words in the air.

"Ssh, harry. It's all right." The soft but masculine scent of sandlewood hooks it's tendrils into my wife's aroma and pushes it away.

"Oh Harry. My beautiful little snake."

I struggle out of sleep and find myself held close in another's arms. "How did you get in my hosue?" I murmur.

A long and slender hand strokes my hair. "Oh Harry. Your wards were wonderful, but you were panicked and didn't use a wand. A wand would've anchored them and kept them hole free."

"I do not have... a wand did you call it?"

He clasps my left hand and holds it up for me to see.

I gasp. "How long have I had that?!" A glittering silver viper with emerald eyes coils around my ring finger. It's tongue lshes out and tastes me reassuringly.

"10 years Harry. It's been protecting you for me. Probably also why you require a wand no longer. It's a bit of grounding fo ryou I should think."

"It's how you found me." I murmur thoughtfully.

"Yes."

'Then why didn't...?"

"You did not want or need to be found. I'm here to save you from your pain, Harry."

I feel him go stiff for a moment, straining as if listening for a sound, and he gently lifts me to my bed. "Dream, little one, I will return."

From my cocoon of blankets I blurrily watch him lean over me and place a kiss on my forehead before he steps back and swirls away, silently, into the darkness.

I close my eyes, to sleep, as I was commanded. My last thoughts as I drift off revolve around why in the world I'd be so comfortable with receiving one of those?

/"Jenny dear, be careful while you're out."

I place a kiss on my wife's cheek and smile at my boys in her arms.

"Relax, Harry. We're just going out to the store. The house is hidden, at your insisting, I'm wearing yet another disguise, and our car has more protection than an armored car." She smiles brilliantly. "We'll be fine, Harry."

I'm racing though the streets. No disguise, no kill gear. Just Harry. Messy hair, designer glasses, T-shirt and jeans.

I can smell the smoke from here.

"Ginny!" I clamber over a stopped car and I sense my ring, my precious wedding band, melting away as if made of sand. The pendant around my neck is burning so hot that I'm sure it's burning my skin. The snake pendant is designed to tell me when she's in danger by glowing. Things must be bad if it's searing my skin.

I round the corner, and at the sight of the wreckage it stops, then it dies. The living metal of pendants DIES and shortly disappear, which means hers is dead too.

"Oh my God! Ginny! JEnnifer! No!!"

I rush at the fiery car and hear two pops behind me.

"Harry, no!!" Jane cries. "She's gone! Let it go. Harry!"

I'm sobbing now. "But the boys!"

"harry, you'll be all right."/

Everything goes dark, and for the first time in a year, I don't wake up to the scent of gardenias. I fumble for my glasses and once I have them on I search, with my eyes, for what's different in my apartment.

Incense is burning on my dedside table and with a whiff I identify it as a sandlewood. Lying next to it is a single white rose.

I leap off my bed, wondering when I got there, and disappear with a crack.

In my absence, my wards snap into place with the finality of of the guillotine and the single person in my house is deposited in the outside hall. He murmers. "Impressice." Before he, too, disapperates away to who knows where.


	2. Chapter 2

_Once again, I mourn the lack of no beta. Sorry these chappies are comin gout so fast. But I actually wrote these back in like... august. I was scribbling them out like you wouldn't believe. And I hav eprove, cause write in the middle of one I scribbled out to a deaf guy taht was sittin gnext to me on aplane that we were almost in sacramento and I went on that trip August 21st and got my notebook when I was buying school supplies. So when I reach the end of my handwritten parts, I'll ahve to make it all up from there... J/K well, abck to whatever._

_Disclaimer: HP is not mine! It is JK rowlings and all that, kays?_

In the middle of Jane and Rory's flat I appear and holler "Hermione Jane granger! I need you right now!" I stomp my foot ptulantly like a child and she scurries into the living room from the study she likes to call the library and smiles prettily.

"Why, good morning Harry!"

"Jane?" I stride forward and give her a hug before holding her at arms length. "What does a white rose stand for?"

hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpssh

I sit gingerly on a bench in the park and delicately tuck one ankle behind the other. I peer under my lashes through a curtain of brunette hair (a wig of course), before smoothing my skirt then examining my ring finger, hand splayed in front of me, not unlike the girlish guise I have adopted.

I flick my hair over my shoulder and gaze up at the tree above me. I'm nervous. Anyone looking at me would assume all the wrong reasons as to why.

Tonight I have a strike, and I have to do it alone. Alone is one thing, but without backup or an orchestrator is a whole other. Rory's still out of commission and Jane is holed up with him and therefore incommunicado.

I haven't seen her since 3 days ago when I asked her about that rose.(1) What worries me is that I'm to take out two of that Pimps associates. They aren't fools like he was either. One of them took out Rory for Merlin's sake, and he's my aprtner for a good reason.

I have to take them out, crack their safe for their debt money, and take it back there.

I have a personal request from Mr. Malfoy himself.

"Worrying doesn't suit you."

I smooth my skirt and fold my hands in my lap coyly, shyly answering back.

"Do I know you?"

"Your disguise is good, but you're still wearing my ring."

"Ir it is yours," I ask all girly, "Then why do you not take it back?"

"Because you do not want me to, do yu?"

I am silent as he sits beside me and comfortingly places his hand on my thigh as if I really was the woman I am portraying.

"I admit I am curious." I say slowly.

"About?" He answers, an amused look on his face.

"You. Me. What you're hiding behind that pretty face."

"I'm not hiding anything, you jsut haven't asked."

"Oh, really?" I flutter my eyelashes as a decoy as I study him up and down.

A white shirt with the top three buttons left undone draws my eyes to his bare chest udnerneath and a faint glimmer I can just see if I turn my head in the correct fashion.

"Well then," I reach out hesitantly and trace his chest gently. "Can you tell me what this is?"

A pendant rolls soothingly under my fingers.

'You can see it?" Surprise flits across his face.

"No." I stand up and smooth my skirt and tuck my hair behind my ears. "I can see traces. It... Seems to be a gift of mine."

/"Harry." Snape's voice comforts my rising anxiety as he caresses my face. "Not everyone can see traces of magic like you. It seems to be a gift of yours."/

"What did you just remember?" He leans back, satisfied, as I flick me hair, irritated, and sit down with a flounce.

"Not much, really." I frown. "But I s'pose you still want to know. But why should I tell you?"

"Yes." His tone is unyielding. Almost like... an order? "I do want to know. Don't you trust my judgement when I've been honest so far?"

/"What I tell you is for your own good."

He towers menacingly over me. He doesn't raise a hand in reprimand but I flinch as tough he does because of his tone of voice.

I bow my head in submission as he continues.

"So no more griping like you distrust my judgement."

"Yes sir." I murmur respectfully, thoroughly chastised.

"Good."/

Impulsively, no, instintually, I bow my head and answer.

'I... yes sir." That knocks the breath out of me in shock. Why am I acting this way? "I first saw you telling me what I just said, that seeing traces of magic was a gift of mine."

He's very smug now, and leans back to where he was previously relaxed before he leaned forward to chastise me. He caresses my neck gently in reassurance, and I shiver before equally gently trying to pull away.

His grip firms and I give up, not wanting to attract attention.

_Is that really why? Or are you afraid of admitting to liking his dominance?_

"Anything more from that flashback?" He prods, firmly, but gently, with his carressing voice.

I shiver again.

"Not... really. That's all I saw for the most part. You said that it was okay and reassured my panic and that was it.?

"And the other?"

"Damnit, I thought you'd miss that." I hunch my shoulders in agitation, trying to wriggle away, and he quickly grips the base of my neck and forces me back into relaxed submission.

I comply much too easily for my tasks and slowly answer, much to my chagrin.

"You were reprimanding me for... griping." His grip tightens when I pause, searching for the right words, as though he doesn't trust me to continue on my own. "When everything you tell me..." I take a quick breath and rush my next words. "Is for my own good."

I'm shivering and it's not even cold out, I'm frightened and it muse show since someone calls out to me.

"Are you all right, miss?"

I look up, startled, and the black haired man's... no, Snape's, hand retreats as if leaving me to my own devices.

An elderly man stands in front of me, worriedly. "Is this man bothering you?"

"Oh no, sir!" I squeak, and stand up quickly, flouncing about and pulling myself together.

I curtsy quickly in Snape's direction and apologixe. I'm very sorry sir, I'm awfully late. Please excuse me."

I imagine my eyes are pleading with his, and I have no idea why.

I turn to the kind old man, who, ironically enough, is my neighbor and is one of the few that has seen meas Harry since the battle. Battle, oh yes. Voldi-man, no, Voldemort. The one I defeated in a final battle.

He has a propensity, my neighbor, when most needed. I freelly admit that, since it isn't a bad thing.

I'm hurrying as fast as my heels and whipping skirt allow back to my apartment.

It's time to focus on my job tonight. Not on silly fantasies that I am most assuredly not interested in.

I'm unbuttoning my blouse when I feel his... Snapes presence in my flat, I ignore him fo rthe moment, although I do quickly calculate where my nearest knife is, as I take off my padded bra as well.

I lift the glamour of stockings and the one on my boxers and... ahem, man parts before letting my skirt fall to the ground as well.

I turn to face him in only my boxers and his gaze wanders my body as though calculating my worth. My skin prickles with goose bumps when he speaks.

"What," His tone is menacingly forboding. "Is that." His eyes are cold and hard as rocks as I feel as though he's burning holes in my chest so I turn away to dig in my drawers for my suit while answering.

"It's originally why I was called the viper." I pause, holding up a shirt and debating a moment before puttin gi on. "I had a pendant. My trademark to go along with my kill mark." I fish for a pair of pants and I notice him sit at my vanity.

"Kill mark?"

"For strikes." I answer curtly as I wriggle into my leather pants.

"And the pendant?"

I huff and run my hands over my face and through my hair.

'It was a danger sensing charm."

"For whom?" His expression darkens and his form seems to grow in the small wooden chair, dwarfin gme.

"It only worked one way." I continue. "My wife had a lion, and I a snake, and mine glowed when she was in danger. Or if she thought the boys were in danger.

He stands and looms over me, stepping so close that I inhale his musky scent of sandlewood and resign to my fate by bowing my head.

His hand tips my face up to look at him an dhe asks me gravely. "Did you love her?"

"Not as much as I apparently lov eyou."

Time stops and I wrench myself free, digging frantically for the rest of my gear. I'm breathless as my mind faces about, trying to figure out what I meant by that.

He stands still as I rush about, trying to attach knives and wrap my arms with shaking hands.

He gently pries my hand off of my arm and efficiently takes over himself. Over, under, around the his hands go, and I'm mesmerized by how delicate they are. He softly speaks.

"you don't have to do this... Job tonight." It isn't a command, but a suggestion. A suggestion I don't take nicely to as I feel my pride kick in.

He glances at me stony face and continues with his self-proclaimed job as he speaks again. 'No one would think less of you."

"Is Lucius Malfoy no one?"

"Well," He drawls. "He's a dear friend of mine, and would not dare do or say anything blatant in front of me."

My bandanna feels too tight tonight as I nervously paw through items in a drawer, withdrawing knuckles plates and a seemingly innoccuous choker with a snake plate on the front.

I'm going all out, if onlyjust to protect myself if something goes wrong. More knives find themselves on my person and Snape eyes me warily.

"And even dear friends are eprfectly capable of sending people to harrass me behin gyour back. I'm going in, and as you can see," I gesture at my person, smiling wanly. "I am going as prepared as possible."

He sighs and gestures towards my vanity. "Sit and I shall do your... paint for you."

I sit and rummage on the vanity top. "Not tonight. The black powder will do. Expecially since I can't often see where I've missed by myself."

He turns on another lamp and directs me to close my eyes as he dusts my face and every other exposed piece of flesh I have.

"Which do you prefer?"

"Well, I usually do the smudge because I can tell wehre it's at by the feel of my skin. But it get's kind of uncomfortable when i sweat."

I sense him lean down and his lips press gently against mine for a mere moment.

I open my eyes and he steps back, handing me the powder which I carefully rub into my lips as well. I slip on fingerless gloves, with my knives sewed in them, to hide the glint of my knuckle plates and I'm all set.

I look up suddenly. "Do you have a first name? I only remember your last."

"I was not aware you knew, remembered, my last name at all."

"All I remember is...Snape."

"My name is Severus."

/"My name is Severus, and in the bedroom you will address me as such."

I am very aware of him as his care skin brushes against mine and his breath ghosts against my lips.

"Do you understand?" His sultry voice asks as his luxurious hair excapes from behind his ears and shrouds my face in a dark, soft curtain.

"Yes."/

"Severusss..." I moan and my eyes snap open before I spring up, backing away in horror.

His face is unreadable as I speak again, waving my hand discreetly.

"You are keyed into my wards and may come and go as you please." I purse my lips and bend to reach my boots under the vanity. "I only ask that you do not remove any o fmy belongings." I deftly tie the laces, for once my hands not betraying my nervousness, before I stand and see him nod.

"Fair enough." He replies mildly. "I shall be at... well, when you visit Lucius, I will undoubtably be there.

I nod and slide open my balcony door, close it carefully, and leap over the edge, to vanish from his sight.

(1) A white rose symbols purity of intent. Or a kind of friendship. But I meant the first one.


End file.
